Wrath of the Red Lanterns
by RavynsLand
Summary: Taking place after the Rage of the Red Lanterns war and the Brightest Day event, the Red Lantern Corps rebuilds on the planet Ysmault. The Blood Ocean awaits for Atrocitus and his team of eight red lanterns - including Bleez, Dex-Starr, Laira, Skallox, Zilius Zox, Ratchet, Veon, and a refugee from the Green Lantern Animated Series - Razer!
1. Zero Issue

The job was simple. Transport a powerless Sinestro from Point A to Point B. The Green Lantern Corps – Hal Jordan in particular... they were overqualified. Of course, not everything went according to plan when a strike force of Sinestro Corpsmen came to rescue their fallen leader.

Battle had broken out. Green against Yellow. Lives were lost. But it had only even started – everything went downhill when the eons-old blood magus and alien warlord known as Atrocitus revealed his own hidden army and ambushed the two warring Corps.

The power of the Red Ring was unprecedented. Rage turned out to be the most lethal of the emotions, perhaps unsurprisingly so, and fueled by Atros's blood magic, even the mindless Red Lantern Corps managed to butcher their opposition until the Blue Corps intervened in the largest inter-color war to date.

Corpsmen on all sides fell, but when the dust settled, Sinestro escaped, and Atrocitus had made his new Corps known to the galaxy. Only one soldier was lost to the reds that day – a former Green Lantern by the name of Laira.

However, nobody at the time, not even Atros himself, fully understood the regenerative powers of the Red Ring...

Failing to locate the Butcher, Atrocitus eventually returned his aimless, barbaric Corps to the desolate planet of Ysmault, dissatisfied with their performance. The rage was clouding their minds, making them powerful but without worth as an army. Unorganized.

Fortunately, this planet, the home of the Red Power Battery and former homeplace of the four deceased Inversions, held a solution to this problem. A dangerous and painful solution that could focus the rage of his Corps, bring their minds back at the cost of their freedom.

The Blood Ocean.


	2. Zero Point One -- Laira

Sinestro.

"You... killed... me..." she whispered. It had been true in a way. During the Four-Corps Battle Sinestro _had_ killed her – split her in half from the shoulder down with one of his foul golden constructs. She had been abandoned there, thought dead, but nobody ever noticed that Laira's ring never left her finger. Never detached itself from her body. Never removed its hold on her.

The Red Lantern Corps, despite being ancient – older even than Sinestro's Corps – was new to the world. New to everyone but Atrocitus himself, who had not yet fully tested the ring's capabilities... such as its ability to heal. The red energy replaced a lantern's circulatory system, yes, that much was known. It was even known that it had the ability to heal over certain organs or outright replace them out of necessity, such as when Atros had lost his heart not so long ago.

But nobody had any clue that it would be able to repair the damage done to Laira, repair the entirety of her body.

The long, blazing red scar across her, however, testified to the fact that the red ring was even more powerful than had been suspected. Shock had been apparent on every face on Ysmault when Laira, the former Green Lantern, had flown down to the Red Power Battery, her hand extended as she approached it.

"With blood and rage of crimson red," she whispered, extending her finger. She was exhausted, nearing a second death as the ring ran out of power.

"We fill mens' souls to darkest dread..." there was a spark from the ring, then a small flash. Laira's voice grew more powerful. Bleez, another red lantern who had just gone through her Blood Ocean dip, arched an eyebrow.

"Who is this one?" the havanian asked. "Didn't she die? Cut down by Sinestro?"

"And twist your minds to pain and hate..." Laira's back straightened as the ring drew energy from the battery, flooding her with it. Her very organs pulsed with the red energy, her mind began to seethe from it as rage filled her, focused within her.

"It seems **Laira** was stronger than we thought." Atrocitus allowed himself a grim smile, still holding Skallox down in the Blood Ocean so that he couldn't escape.

"We'll burn you all..."

"She's really milking the oath, don't you think?" Bleez said with a twist of her lips, folding her arms.

"**That... is... your... FATE!"** There was a brief blast from the power battery as it completely filled Laira's ring, flooding her with its power, charging her, feeding her, gorging her with the power of pure fury and vengeance. When the red halo around her faded, Laira dropped to her knees, crimson plasma dripping from her lips as she gasped for breath.

"Excellent," Atrocitus said softly. "Bleez, when I'm finished with Skallox... introduce young Laira to the Blood Ocean."


	3. Zero Point Two -- Skallox

The sting of thick, heavy claws in the back of his head made Skallox thrash and kick, reaching up with long, skinny arms in a desperate (an eventually futile) attempt to escape the Blood Ocean. Overpowering Atrocitus was not a possibility – he had no choice but to embrace the ocean. Embrace his endless rage.

He remembered betrayal. Crime. He remembered being innocent – well, maybe not innocent, but innocent of the crime he was punished for. His old... what was it? His boss. His old boss had betrayed him, when Skallox had been nothing if not a loyal right hand man.

"Rrrrghhahghghhh!" he wailed out from beneath the Blood Ocean, bubbles burbling out in the thick, red, viscous slime but no sound. "...Cyber... eggs..."

He had been taken away by his boss to be interrogated for a theft he had not been a part of. Blamed wrongly for something he had never done, would never had done. He had been loyal, loyal to the end. And he had been thrown in the fire for it.

And that rage... the rage he felt, the agony and the fury had brought the ring to him, coated him in that embrace of anger. It had changed him from being a simple man – a bad man, but a simple man – into what he was now. A beast of vengeance, a slobbering creature who would never again show such love to his employer. From now on... it was business. And Skallox's first plans would be to find Lancer. Find his old boss.

And burn him.

He burst out of the Blood Ocean with a gasp when Atrocitus finally released him, his thick fingers clawing at the edge of the massive red lake as he tried to crawl back up.

"Excellent job, Skallox," came Atros's rumbling voice. "Tell me... how do you feel?"

Skallox looked up slowly, his outfit beginning to shift and change very slightly, modifying itself to his actual desires. He had desires now – desires besides that to kill. He had a desire to look imposing. A desire to be respected. A desire to be good at his job...

And a desire to eat.

"I feel... hungry," Skallox growled, a slow smile spreading across his inhuman face.

Atrocitus folded his arms and nodded before gesturing to Bleez, who casually tossed the still-shaky Laira into the Blood Ocean. "Good," he growled. "Then you shall feed."


	4. Zero Point Three -- Veon

"What's going on?" Razer said quietly, his arms folded across his chest. The bizarrely-colored earth-cat, Dex-Starr, crawled up onto his shoulder for a better look, his long blue tail swishing back and forth.

"I'm unsure," Atrocitus replied, taking a pensive posture with his hands clasped behind his back. With his first several officers already doused in the agonizing abyss of the Blood Ocean, and a few of those having already set out onto their vengeance-quests, the High Lord had moved on to the next "wave" of recruits, the first of which had been a curious creature.

Squat, but sinuous – powerful yet feral. The deep indigo, one-eyed creature known as Veon had always been a particularly ferocious lantern when he had been mindless, and Atros had high hopes for him... very high hopes. Now, however, Veon thrashed and squirmed within the Ocean's embrace, shrieking and spewing plasma out of his mouth, his very body seeming to twist and contort, muscles knotting.

"It's taking too long. His awakening should have finished by now," Razer said, taking another step forward. Dex had settled on his shoulder now, arms and legs draped over either side, and had started to purr contently... though his eyes never left the spectacle of Veon's anguished flailing.

"He's reacting badly to the awakening. I've never seen anything like it before." Atrocitus reached in quickly, closing one massive hand around Veon's head-tail and yanking him out of the burbling scarlet liquid.

"Killllll! Rend, maim! Rrraaaagggge...!" Veon spluttered. He had visibly changed, but only slightly. When each member of the Red Lantern Corps emerged from the Blood Ocean their uniform would change very slightly to fit their own tastes – Veon's, however, was nearly identical to the way it had been before. A burning red membrane coating his body, encasing him and emblazoned with the Red Lantern insignia.

"We may never know what happened to him, to bring him the ring," Atros mused, still holding the writhing creature up by his head and examining him closely. "Perhaps it was so terrible that even being granted lucidity was not enough to bring sanity. We may not be able to comprehend the torment he has sustained."

"We have _all_ sustained true pain, Lord Atrocitus," Razer said softly, standing behind and to the side of the Corps' leader, getting a closer look at Veon. "No one's rage is greater than another's."

"Untrue," Atrocitus growled, tossing Veon to the bank and turning away. He'd been manageable up until now, he'd remain so. "Rage is not equal. Some rage, certain burning furies, are more bitter... more savage. More pure. The rage of a Red Lantern." He inhaled, turning to face the blue-flesh creature again as it scrambled onto all fours, struggling to regain what senses it had. "But perhaps even that rage is not without its impurities."


	5. Zero Point Four -- Razer

"_Mommy!" he screamed out._

"_It's okay, Razer... it's okay, everything's going to be okay."_

_General Zartok smiled slowly, folding his arms. "No, 'Razer'. It isn't. Drusa... finish her off."_

"_No! Mom, no!"_

"_It's okay, Razer, it's okay, don't worry..."_

"This is ridiculous, my lord. Skallox and I have served for far longer, and are only now just being inducted. We fought in the Four-Corps War with you, fought by your side next to Bleez and the others. Yet you sully the concept of an inner circle with this fresh-faced twink?" Zilius Zox flailed his short, stubby arms back and forth wildly as he ranted, looking up at the towering red beast that was just now creating the new sect within the Red Lantern Corps.

"You may have served longer, Zilius," Atrocitus boomed out, crossing his arms across his massive chest. "But you also have a history of incompetence. It is only by plodding along that you have risen _this_ far in rank – you should be honored, not spiteful."

"What of Razer, then? What has he done?" Zilius continued, "He didn't even show up to accept his new rank, how has he risen up so quickly? Only Bleez, Dex and Ratchet outrank him, and he didn't even fight in the war alongside you!"

Bleez now pitched in, tapping one clawed finger against her full, silky blue lips. "Seems he is the High Lord's pet, does it not?" Atrocitus uttered a warning growl, but the havanian continued casually. "Think about it. Razer's home planet was destroyed by Mongul, the same way Atros's was by the Guardians and their foul Manhunters. Perhaps he relates to the frail little thing."

"If you want to get technical..." Ratchet began, extending one tentacle thoughtfully and eliciting a groan from the other lanterns. "Razer, like our lovely Bleez here, showed a level of cognizance before our lord Atrocitus introduced him to the Blood Ocean, and even now that he has returned from it, he shows a greater level of control and skill... his military training, perhaps?"

"Yes, thank you for the exposition Ratchet," Bleez sneered. "We all know that Razer served in the military. But he still lacks the passion and ruthlessness that gives the Red Lanterns our strength."

Atrocitus lowered his eyes, one massive red hand slowly curling into a fist. "That's enough, out of all of you. Razer is being inducted into the Inner Circle, and your opinions on him are irrelevant. Even now, the reason he hasn't shown up is because he is single-handedly retrieving fuel for the power battery from a warzone not far away. He shows initiative and control, and therefore he's an asset. I'll hear no more..." his voice lowered dangerously. "..._Criticism_, of my choices."

The other red lanterns, even Zilius, grumbled quietly and shuffled awkwardly, eventually leading to Skallox, who had been silent until now, piping up. "Well... thanks for the inner circle thing. It's an honor, my lord."

Atrocitus grimaced, a gesture seen often from him. It was still unclear whether it was a smile, frown, or something else... those teeth tended to complicate things. "That's more like it. Now go, all of you. I'll tell Razer myself later. And... well, Veon, I don't think will much care."

There was a brief pause.

Zilius floated up off the ground so that he could flail all four short limbs in tandem. _"Veon's in the inner circle too?!"_

Razer exhaled slowly, wiping one gauntlet across his brow to draw away what little sweat he had build up, and set down his personal battery, still sticky from the blood he had filled it with. "There we go. All in a day's work, I suppose."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" came a soft voice from behind him, causing the thin, pale warrior to turn instinctively. The speaker was their miracle-corpswoman, the incredibly resurrected Laira. "Bringing those bastards to justice? Doesn't it make you feel like you're doing something important?"

Razer nodded slowly. "Yes, it does," he said in his soft, slightly raspy voice. "That feeling is all I have, anymore."

"it's all _any_ of us have," Laira affirmed, carrying her own battery to the huge, cracked central battery of Ysmault and pouring in her payload. Razer's eye lingered as she turned away from him, tilting his head slightly to the side. The miracle girl had given him a lot to think about – how much a Red Lantern could withstand, how much they could heal from. How long their rage would keep bringing them back, and when they would eventually burn out.

Then again, she also gave him _other_ things to think about, as her lithe blue figure abruptly reminded him. He could never pursue her, of course... not with Illana so fresh in his memory. "Yes, unfortunately, it is," he said quietly, before lifting himself into the air. "Atrocitus has summoned me, so I'm afraid I must take my leave."

"See you again sometime, maybe out in the field," Laira replied as he flew off, offering a small smile.

"Yeah... maybe."


	6. Zero Point Five -- Bleez

"...We'll burn you all – that is your fate!" Bleez allowed herself a small smile as a flash of red light swirled forth from her personal, portable red lantern, embracing her ring in a blazing corona of pure, unadulterated, arcane rage-energy. This power was incredible, coursing through her very blood, sustaining her. Channeling her unending fury to fuel her vengeance.

Though, of course, it did have a few problems. Through the ring – presumably due to the superiority of his own ring – Atrocitus had the power to issue 'sacred orders'. The power to command the rest of the Corps to do his bidding, whether or not they wanted to.

To Bleez, the Raging Angel and officially appointed second-in-command to Atros himself, this was not entirely... acceptable.

"How's it hangin', Redwing?" came a foul voice from behind her – Zilius Zox, on his way to the Power Battery to recite his own oath and recharge his ring.

"I told you not to call me that, you insignificant bulb of leather," the havanian retorted with a snarl, folding her blazing bone-wings behind her and tucking her portable lantern back into its cozy extradimensional pocket. Zilius seemed to be the bane of her existence – whether he was a spy for Atros, or merely a ubiquitous annoyance, it seemed that whenever Bleez began set a plan or investigation into motion, he was there.

"That's hurtful," he said with a small snicker, baring his row of grisly, rotten fangs. "Here I'm just tryin' to be friendly."

Bleez paused, looking back over her shoulder at the limbed sphere of meat and skin. The likelihood that Zox actually had good intentions of any sort was highly doubtful – even the other lanterns considered him unnecessarily cruel and violent, and that was saying a good deal. So the possibility of him actually trying to be friendly had a low likelihood. "I'm sure," the female lantern said under her breath. She didn't have time to deal with him now.

The havanian spread her wings – the action completely unnecessary as she was capable of flight without them – and took off into the sky, ending that dead-end conversation as quickly as possible. She had work to do and it did not involve Zox or any of the other lanterns – by nullifying the power of the sacred order she could, theoretically, circumvent Atrocitus's stranglehold on his own corps. Even if she didn't fill his place, even if she never staged a true coup, liberating the rings (or, perhaps, just her own) would give her an advantage that only she knew of.

Which, obviously, was the very best sort of advantage.

Bleez's concentration was forcibly broken by a booming voice calling out her own name. She exhaled harshly, the napalm in her blood boiling at the sound. Atrocitus.

Quickly turning, she flew to the crudely-built palace Atros had seen created, serving as temple and barracks both. Within the atmosphere it was mere seconds before she arrived, lighting gently on her dark-booted feet and folding her wings behind her. "What is it?" she asked quickly as the massive, red-skinned titan of a man stepped out of the building, his hands behind his back.

"We received a report from Sector 529 – an opportunity to feed the power battery, though not one that should be challenging."

"Slavers, again?" Bleez asked, rolling her eyes with a bitten-back groan.

"Close; a refugee camp," Atros replied, not a hint of humor in his deep, rumbling voice.

"Then why send me? Why not Skallox or Laira? I have better things to do with my time."

The tiniest twinkle of a smile touched Atros's eyes, but not his lips. "That's what I'm afraid of. I want you to take Veon into the field with you and see what he's capable of on a low-risk outing. See if he has any hope of controlling his bloodlust."

"I'm overqualified for that!" Bleez snarled. "Send one of the others to babysit your _flawed_ lantern!"

"Go, Bleez," Atrocitus said, his voice lowering. "...Now."

"But-" the havanian began, before releasing a ragged sigh, a tiny red splatter of plasma escaping her lips. "...Yes, Lord Atrocitus. I'll get Veon at once."

She turned away from the High Lord, walking to the "kennels" kept outside of the barracks where Veon was kept, and no words followed her from behind. As she walked away, however, a small smile curled her lips. When she found out the flaw of the red rings, the safeguard that kept them all under Atros's control, and _fixed_ it... it would be the last order he gave her.


	7. Zero Point Six -- Zilius Zox

"Scream, ya little bitch!" Tallex roared, lashing out with another swift, heavy backhand and knocking the slave girl backwards, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the little shuttle. She whimpered harshly, sobbing to herself but not yet obeying.

"You'll scream... you'll scream for me." The hulking, azure beast of an alien took another step forward, his muscles flexing as he cast his shadows over his frail victim. "You'll scream for me, whore."

She sniffled, trying to crawl away and pawing desperately at the reinforced metal walls keeping her inside the space shuttle. So far away from her home planet, so far away from her friends and her family. Why had she gone to that market? Why had she met with the loxian man and why did she have to like him so much?

"Scream!" Tallex bellowed, another sharp smack belting across the side of the slim, yellow-skinned alien girl. Thin green blood trickled from her nose, and she sniffled hard but didn't scream. This was all she had left. She could hold on. She could hold on until help came. Don't give him what he wants.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh? My buddies and I take you aboard our nice ship..." he took a few steps back, opening a steel drawer in the wall and reaching inside. "...And you can't even follow one simple request?"

"Take it easy, Tallex," one of the other men said, sighing blissfully. His comment was out of mere reflex, for he didn't care either – the drugs in his system made that more than a little challenging. "Don't wanna hurt her too bad."

Tallex's eyes narrowed as he withdrew his hand from the drawer, the three-fingered meathook now clasping a thick, heavy hatchet. "I'll hurt her as bad as I have to," he growled, a small smile crossing his tusked face.

"P-please... please, don't... I didn't do anything..." the girl sobbed, backing up against the wall and holding her arms in front of her face, as if they would protect her from another hit.

The loxian who had lured the girl there – a small, yet stout man by the name of Zeld – staggered onto the bridge of the little ship, barely sentient from the amount of tranquilizers in his system. He let out a little giggle but then straightened his face. "Come on Tal, chill out, she's gotta be intact when we get her to the slave market." He paused, then. "Did you hear anythin'?"

"Nahhh," the seated alien droned. Tallex, however, didn't even hear the warnings.

Grabbing one frail yellow arm in his hand, he slammed it hard against the wall, holding it firmly by the wrist. "Scream, you little bitch!"

The girl did scream, finally, as that hatchet ripped into the bone of her elbow, shredding the entire thing but not removing her arm. By the Guardians did she scream, though that did not end her suffering. Frustrated by a job half-done, Tallex smashed the hatchet down again, and again, until the bone snapped fully and the flesh ripped away, causing the girl's arm to rip off from the pulling.

God, did she scream.

"Guys, I think I heard somethin'," Zeld grunted, waddling his thick legs over to the cockpit and glancing at the readings. "Oh crap, crap – there's somethin', we're gettin' readings!"

"Deal with it!" Tallex roared, tossing away the skinny arm and just now starting to undo his belt to the tune of the slave girl's shrieks. "I got somethin' to take care of."

He was abruptly silenced by the sound of ripping metal, the hull of the shuttle being completely ripped apart and the icy cold atmosphere of the nearest planet rushing in. There was a barely-sentient growl from the bridge, and Zeld grabbed his ray-rifle, pointing it in that direction. "What the hell was that?!"

"It's nothin', maaan."

"That was somethin'! Tallex, get your damn gu–llllk...!"

"Whaaa?" the prone man groaned, finally opening his eyes and sitting up before scrambling backwards. Zeld had been torn into at least six pieces and now lay in chunks on the table in front of him. "Holy- Tallex, man, do somethin'!"

"I said I'm busy," Tallex growled, taking a fistful of the slave girl's hair. "Deal with whatever it is your own lazy self."

"No, Tallex, I – seven lords above, what is thaAAHKKKL!" And he, too, was silenced.

Tallex growled, exhaling and tossing the gold-skinned girl back against the wall, grabbing his own ray-rifle and turning around to see nothing resembling what he had expected. The squat, bulbous, limbed head that faced him was nearly as tall as he, wrapped in dark brown leathery flesh and dripping with acidic gore.

"How's it goin', bro," Zilius Zox said with a fanged smile that took up the entirety of his face. "Feel like screaming for me?"

Tallex's last sounds were a shriek of horror as he was bitten in half, only to be spat back out into the atmosphere to plummet to the planet before. "Tastes like chicken," Zilius said with a satisfied snarl. "Ah well, all in a day's work. Better start collectin' the blood–"

"P-please," came a whimper from the other side of the shuttle; a soft, shaking voice. "Please, help me." The slave girl sat shaking, her face drained of color as she clutched to the stub of her arm, gushing that viscous green fluid over the floor. "P-please."

"Sorry, babe," Zilius said, picking his teeth with Zeld's ray-rifle. "Red Lanterns aren't in the business of helping people." Using the ring's energy, Zilius lifted himself off of his feet and shot off like a bullet, out of the ship and back into space.

"Ring, set a course for Ysmault. Send a relay to Atrocitus reporting a job well done."


	8. Zero Point Seven -- Dex-Starr

"You'll never stop me! The Man of Steel isn't here to save you, Metropolis! Hahahahahaaa!" Hiro Okamura – better known as the latest incarnation of the _Toyman_ – screamed with ecstatic frenzy as his gigantic robot trashed through Metropolis, sending a skyscraper tumbling with one enormous mechanical spider-like leg. "The city belongs... to me!"

Lois Lane inhaled deeply, waving a hand to Jimmy who snapped a quick picture. "Superman nowhere to be seen. Second-rate villain destroys the city and everyone in it... nobody saves us." She exhaled, lowering her eyes from the destruction. "Not a very good headline. Good thing I'll never have a chance to print it."

"It'll be okay, Lois," Jimmy said with an uneasy, yet optimistic smile. "Someone will save us."

"Yeah... I'm sure," she said, jotting something down in her notepad before looking back up, whispering under her breath. _"Where are you, Clark?"_

Hiro noticed nothing of what was happening around him, too intense in his focus, too blissful in the chaos and the calamity. He was winning. He finally got his due. He finally got to be the villain who destroyed Metropolis. The villain who won. "Nobody can stop me!"

"Mew?"

"Wha?" Toyman turned within the cockpit of his enormous spider-mech, lifting and directing his venom-cannon. "What was that?"

"Nyeeow."

"Dammit, what is that sound? Is that a f***ing cat?!" he roared, distracted from his moment of glory. It was only a few moments later that he removed his goggles from his eyes, looking at the plate glass window in front of him. Hovering contently in front of him was a bizarre, blue-furred cat, wrapped in a sort of black-and-scarlet membrane and wearing a tiny red band around his tail.

"Get outta here! I hate cats!" he screamed manically, blasting a bolt from his cannon in the direction of the hovering blue cat. There was a quick flash as a crimson barrier erected itself, easily absorbing the venom blast.

"...Hsssssssssss."

Hiro's eyes widened as Dex-Starr, the only Red Lantern of Earth, shrieked wildly and charged, a gush of thick red plasma spewing forth from his small mouth and enshrouding his spider-mech, corroding the parts within seconds, seeping into every gear and working part. "No! No, you idiot cat! Stop that!" Toyman wailed, searching for the eject button.

"Mrrrroooow!" Dex growled, a gigantic red cat-paw suddenly batting the entire mech to the side, the legs giving way and the whole thing collapsing. Hiro scrambled for the button, finally finding the clutch and yanking on it hard.

As Hiro Okamura soared up into the skyline of Metropolis, he cursed that cat. Cursed the thing that had stolen his moment of glory from him. First Superman, and now this... but next time. Next time the Toyman would have the moment he deserved, and his jet-pack would be more than fast enough to get him out of town before–

"Nyaaw?"

"...Oh, crap."

Hiro forgot about his thoughts of vengeance as cosmic bile seared the flesh from his skull, reducing him to a frail, charred skeleton. In fact, he forgot pretty much everything.

Dex-Starr's ring glowed briefly before opening a simple screen in front of him, one that showed Atros's face. "Is the deed done?"

Dex-Starr closed his eyes and purred softly, licking the plasma from his whiskered muzzle. "Prrrrr."

Atrocitus showed a rare smile – a true smile, not a grimace or scowl or one of those constipated looks he sometimes got. A genuine smile. "Good kitty, Dex."

_Dex kill Toy-boy. Save Metropolis. Dex is hero of Earth. Dex is good kitty._


	9. Zero Point Eight -- Ratchet

A single, slim tentacle extended as Ratchet awoke from his period of dormancy. While a lot of the Red Lanterns didn't sleep, too fueled by their rage and too maniacal to enter a contemplative state. Ratchet, however, was... well, he was different. He was damaged. Of all those in the Red Lantern Corps, those who had suffered, those who had been hurt, even those who had been mutilated (Bleez came to mind), none had suffered the sort of permanent damage that Ratchet had. Not been permanently shifted to an entirely different sort of creature.

Ratchet pushed aside the glowing, acidic red plates that made up his shell, guarding his frail, tiny body while he rested. He was big when he was wearing his armor – looked big, anyway, with his massive head and long tentacles – but beneath the red-light exoskeleton that he frequently wore, Ratchet was tiny. His brain alone was larger than his body and limbs combined, and after the damage he had sustained at the hands of his own people, even that tiny body was deformed and weak, crippled. Without the ring he couldn't walk or move, and it was only the ability to fly and use constructs that allowed the tiny, intellectual alien to function at all.

He took a deep, rasping breath as his shell opened, and quickly created a small rebreather to fit over his tiny, cherubic face. Lifting up into the air, the shards of his shell formed into a sort of scarlet armor, a high-tech system of tubes and hard, segmented plates that covered his pitiful figure. It was as much life-support as it was combat defense... even with the red energy replacing his circulatory system, he needed it. He needed all he could get.

Feeling out around him with his tentacles, Ratchet started speeding through the air, heading towards the Blood Ocean. As one of the top three most intelligent members of the Corps beside Bleez and Atros himself, though not as powerful as either of them, Ratchet was often given the "tricky" jobs that he could handle outside of his personal cycle of rest. Most of these jobs, unfortunately, involved Veon – Atrocitus was too busy himself to deal with the feral violet freak and he needed someone who was both clever enough to handle him, and... damaged enough, to have insight into Veon's pain. Ratchet was a natural choice.

He found Veon in the kennels, still breathing deeply and covered with alien blood after having been taken out on a "training mission" with Razer and another undipped recruit. That big, blank black eye turned to Ratchet, and all he could see was madness. Whether Veon had been psychotic before whatever event had attracted the red ring would be an important part of curing him, but so far Ratchet had made very little progress. Repeated dips into the Blood Ocean seemed to enrage Veon further, leading to a few dangerous "incidents" that Ratchet had been harshly reprimanded for.

"You have so much pain," Ratchet whispered in a soft, warbled voice that was partially smoothed by the machine over his face, leading to an almost robotic monotone. Plasma dripped from Veon's mouth, but the stare remained fixed, unchanging. "Just let me cure you."


	10. Zero Point Nine -- Atrocitus

_My name was once Atros._

_I am the High Lord of the Red Lantern Corps. I created the power battery with the arcane blood of the Four Inversions, of which I am the lesser-known Fifth._

_The Guardians and their impure organizations see me as many things. A rage-fueled Red Lantern, a powerful leader, a tactician, and a brute. They know nothing of my sorcery, nothing of the blood magic that powers my own Corps and makes them unique. The pseudo-science that powers their own batteries is simple, predictable. Able to control and circumvent by merely understanding the way it works._

_The red rings obey my commands, and mine alone. The power of the Sacred Order is mine, and mine alone. It is through this that my Corps stays intact._

_Though, from time to time, I admit to a sense of concern. While certain members of the Corps – Dex-Starr and Ratchet come to mind – seem to be fully loyal to the cause of the Red Lanterns, I know that things are not always as they seem. There are threats coming from within, threats that I don't always know that I can keep in check._

_Laira was once a member of the Green Lantern Corps. I acted in foolishness and haste when I allowed her to bathe in the arcane plasma of the Blood Ocean – with her mind restored, she shows an ever-increasing amount of clarity and focus. When she fully recovers from her own death, and recovers her own self, her willpower will be unrivaled by any within my own Corps. If she should get her hands on a green ring, her strength could be too much for me to handle alone._

_Veon is an unchecked threat. Attempting to restore his sanity is akin to playing with fire: he represents something unknown in the power of the red ring, a type of Rage so intense that it cannot be controlled or overcome. When Ratchet unlocks the secrets of his mind, the results could be catastrophic._

_Even Zilius Zox's infinite cruelty is not unknown to me, though his history of incompetence marks him as a lesser threat. If he gets it into his mind that I must be destroyed, I don't know what he may be capable of. Along with the others, he must be watched._

_However, even with Razer sprinting through our ranks and Skallox's unknown motivations, no member of my own Corps presents as much of a threat as my own second-in-command. Bleez was the first Red Lantern to be converted, so many years ago in Havania. The first one among us to start recovering her intelligence without being dipped in the Blood Ocean. The most powerful Red Lantern, eclipsed only by me._

_Yet she schemes in the dark. Continuously examining the rings, the power battery, the lesser lanterns. She drinks from the Blood Ocean daily, like some sick vampire. Though I have turned my eye to her machinations, they are too sinister and convoluted – too much like Bleez herself – for me to figure out. Using blood magic in an attempt to scry on her has met with... mixed results. She has already taken precautions against it, of a sort I cannot know._

_The easy answer would be to destroy her. I could do it, I would be only a small challenge. Strike her down in front of the rest of the Corps, show them all the results of mutiny. But my Corps is too volatile and too chaotic for me to control – when they were but mindless raging machines, I could direct them, if not truly harness them. Now that each Red Lantern has regained their intelligence they are violent and destructive individuals, too vitriolic to keep in line._

_When everything is said and done, I need Bleez. It is her personal power and sensual cruelty that keeps the majority of members under control. Her influence over the Corps is both a godsend and the biggest threat of all. Should she find what it is she's looking for, and divides the rest of the Corps against me... I cannot predict the outcome._


End file.
